


The Not So Comfortable Bed

by timey_wimey_wayward_lock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Mates, Mpreg, Omega John, Omega Verse, and six months pregnant, john is lonely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1689800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timey_wimey_wayward_lock/pseuds/timey_wimey_wayward_lock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is left alone when he sends Sherlock out on a case, since the man had been obnoxiously complaining about his boredom. And the Omega, rather, the six month pregnant Omega, just can't get comfortable without his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Not So Comfortable Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this little fic! 
> 
> Everyone has their own version of Omegaverse, so please, it would be appreciated if you don't be rude to mine. 
> 
> If you see any mistakes, tell me in a comment, so I can fix them!
> 
> And leave some kudos or a comment if you like it, it will be greatly appreciated.
> 
> If you post this link on tumblr, please be sure to let me know and include my name. My tumblr is guitarriffsandamazingships. 
> 
> I also have some other fics you can check out, if you'd like.
> 
> -timey_wimey_wayward_lock

The sheets were cool and unfamiliar as they stretched around John's swollen body. He'd slept in this spot so many times that he knew almost every dip in the mattress; everything about the bed was plugged into his memory. But now, straining with an almost six month belly, John found that the normally comfortable bed wasn't exactly that. He was wearing loose fitted clothing; a comfy jumper stretched over his stomach, and a pair of pyjama bottoms. He had the covers tucked over him as he lay on his back, but it wasn't enough. He still shivered at times and then warmed too quickly moments later. He couldn't get comfortable. Not even by adding extra layers, or taking layers off. Or even by turning to lay on his sides. There was never a happy medium. 

 

 

John was a doctor. He knew every pain and every problem that could arise during pregnancy. He knew every symptom that would occur, and yet, when they had come, he had trouble taking it in. Even if he had dealt with plenty of pregnant men and women in his life, and had witnessed the signs and events with his own eyes, it was a lot to take in. This wasn't a dream, which he had to keep reminding himself. He was carrying a living, breathing fetus inside of him. It was all worth it, he knew that. But when things came up, like morning sickness, or hormones, it still surprised him. Not that he wasn't joyful. This was everything he could have ever wanted; a man to love him and a child to hold. 

 

 

But, in fact, at the current moment his man was busy. Saving the whole of London and chasing after criminals. John had wanted him to stay, but his boredom had crossed over the uttermost and ridiculous line, so the blond knew that Sherlock needed a distraction. He let him go, albeit a but reluctantly, but now waited rather desperately for his return. 

 

 

Shifting in bed once again, he let out a frustrated noise - that sounded like a mix between a growl and a whine. This was pointless. He was never going to get comfortable without someone else. And he didn't want to bother Sherlock; to sound needy as he begged for his attention over the phone. It would be selfish. At the same time, though, he feared he might just never get comfortable. 

 

 

His hand rested on his skin, over the baby bump, and he gave a soft caress. He was merely a few months away from his due date, and hell, things were going by so fast. One moment there had been no signs, and the next, he'd woken up swollen with the slightest bump. It had really been one of the most proudest moments in John's life, learning that a new life was growing inside him. _Sherlock's_ new life. 

 

 

Soon they'd be able to feel and see the pup kick; John could already sense his movement, but the child had a least a month until they would start kicking at the stomach. It was absolutely brilliant, really. Despite how uncomfortable it could get, John knew it would definitely be worth it. 

 

 

John wasn't exactly a normal Omega. He'd, rather, denied the fact that he was one for many years. Only about 14% of the entire England population were Omega males. It would seem to be logical that Omega's were treated well because they were rare, but it was much different. Alpha's were animalistic; driven by pure need and pheromones. So, John had hidden himself. Took suppressants, and the like. He was hard, protective, strong. Assertive, aggressive. Everything you would expect of an Alpha. But underneath that soldier, he could be entirely different. Submissive, quiet, mundane. A man who enjoyed lounging on the sofa and watching countless reruns of Doctor Who and football. John was a puzzle, in a way.

 

 

He looked at the time, letting out another frustrated whine. Only about twenty minutes had gone by, and he was still tossing and turning in bed. He had even closed his eyes, intending to sleep, but instead had only lain there like a fool. So, John gave up. With a slight heave, he slid the covers off, and pushed himself into a sitting position. One of his hands curled protectively around his belly, and he used the other to push himself up the rest of the way. Carrying such a rapidly growing child didn't make it exactly easy to move around.

 

 

John's feet slowly trotted across the warm carpet, until they then stepped onto the cool tile of the kitchen. He was faced with a kitchen table covered in experiment equipment, and containers full of things he was not going to comment on (one was purple slime that was wriggling), not to mention the piles of things on the kitchen counter. And since the blond man was completely uncomfortable and bored in bed, he decided to at least make use of his time. Besides, there was one thing that his mate wasn't, and that was being good at chores. 

 

 

Elbows deep in soapy water, John cleaned every container and dish that wasn't being used, and set them out to dry. He couldn't have this mess when they had a little one to take care of. Once their pup grew into his crawling and walking ages, having things lying around would not be good. They'd have to barricade off the kitchen, since it wasn't a safe place for little Sherlock's. 

 

 

The kitchen was cleaned, and the blond wiped the gathering of sweat from his forehead. He could feel the slight push of the baby, who jammed into his ribcage. He cringed softly, rubbed at his stomach, until the baby shifted again. Ah, much better.

 

 

Click. The sound of a lock unlatching. Footsteps in the hall, up the creaky steps, past the landing, and up the second set of stairs. They made their way into the sitting room, where the swish of a belstaff being taken off could be heard. John let out a sigh of relief. The scent of his Alpha was overwhelming, brilliant, and something he needed exactly. But, he waited until Sherlock finished, his hands rubbing circles on swollen flesh. 

 

 

"John?" A deep baritone called out, graceful movement taking the tall man into the kitchen. John greeted his Alpha with a grin; a tired, breathless, and eager grin. He waved him closer with a hand, the need to be buried in close imperative, now.

 

 

Sherlock was there, kissing his forehead, lips, and then stomach. They murmured questions and answers about their day, but none of that chatter was really needed.

 

 

Moments later, the Alpha led the Omega into bed. John lie, under the distant sheets, and felt protective arms curl around him.

 

 

Things were perfect.

 

 

And suddenly, the not so comfortable bed became the most comfortable thing in the world.


End file.
